


Parroting In Any Language

by girlintheglen



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen





	Parroting In Any Language

"Why is there a parrot in our office?"  Illya was not opposed to parrots, he was simply curious about the one perched at his desk.  
  
Napoleon shrugged his shoulders in a sign of ignorance.  
  
"It was here when I arrived.  There is a note attached to him, around his neck.  I thought we could read it together."  The smile at the end of his sentence was laced with disdain.  The CEA of UNCLE Northwest did not like surprises in the form of strange birds, especially not when they were in his office.  For one thing…  
  
"I'm going to need some maintenance people in here to…' He gestured to the droppings on the carpet. "Birds don't use a litter box do they?"  Illya almost laughed out loud.  
  
"No, no they do not.  Only cats use litter boxes as far as I know.  Napoleon, have you offended any women lately?"  Napoleon's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.  Why did Illya assume that women were somehow put off by the Solo charm?  That boy had a lot to learn.  
  
"No, there are no disgruntled women in my life.  And, in case you missed this detail, he's on your desk."  That brought a scowl.  
  
"Yes, well… I doubt it is relevant to our  problem.  Read the note."  
  
Napoleon retrieved the note from the bird's neck, extracting it from a carefully tied ribbon that ran through a hole in the paper.  His eyes skimmed over the handwritten message while Illya attempted to read his partner's face.  
  
"Oh boy… "  
  
"What is it? Read the note Napoleon… out loud."  
  
Napoleon took a deep breath before starting.  
  
" _Dear Napoleon and Illya, his name is Pedro…"_  
  
"Pedro."  The bird squawked out his name on cue.  
  
"His name is Pedro."  Illya said it only to have the bird repeat it once more.  
  
"Please, do not say his name again.  Go on… with the note."  Illya was starting to think this was not going to be a good day.  
  
"… _His name is._. umm, we know what his name is… _and he is very friendly.  I hope you will take good care of him.  Mark and I won't be back for three weeks so you boys have fun together.  Love, April._ "  
  
"April?  When did April get a parrot?  And where are they going for three weeks?"  
  
Napoleon shook his head.  He had assigned them to follow a trail in North Africa that was estimated to take about three weeks.  Mr. Waverly must have finalized the plans.  
  
"I don't know about Pedro…"  
  
"Pedro!" Illya scowled again as the parrot repeated his name.  
  
"The assignment is real, the time is about right and … we seem to be babysitting a parrot."  
  
Both men looked at the orange and green bird with a measure of distress before Napoleon suggested they take the bird to the translation department, where Mandy could keep an eye on April's little friend.  
  
"Why there?" Illya wasn't following his partner's reasoning on this one.  
  
"Mandy will do it, no questions asked.  She's always there whereas we are due to be at several meetings and then a trip up to Maine to check on that tip about a possible THRUSH satrapy.  We can't be responsible for a bird.  We'll give him to Mandy.  There's someone in that unit twenty-four hours a day."  
  
Illya nodded his head.  He hated to disappoint April, but she should have realized that they weren't able to watch Pedro continuously.  
  
"All right, you take him up there and I shall…' Illya indicated the mess on the floor.  
  
"Oh, right… good thinking.  Pedro, let's go see a pretty girl named Mandy."  
  
"Mandy!" Both men smiled and wondered what else Pedro would be talking about by the time April returned.  
  
Three weeks to the day the team of Dancer and Slate returned to their New York offices after having tracked down and destroyed a potentially harmful site near Casablanca.  THRUSH would have to do better next time, but hopefully wouldn't.  At least these agents hoped not.  
  
April and Mark checked in and then went directly to meet with Mr. Waverly, who was waiting for a verbal report.  After that it was back to Napoleon and Illya's office to retrieve Pedro.  It was one of the secretaries who informed agent Dancer that her parrot was down in the Translations department, under the care of Mandy Stevenson; Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin were in Maine, unable to care for Pedro.  
  
"Oh, well that makes sense.  Okay, I'll just go down to Translations and pick up my Pedro.  Mark, you coming?"  The Brit nodded yes, he always liked to chat with Mandy.  He might even ask her out this time.  Once there it was a round of 'hellos' and waiving hands from those unable to talk to the two agents.  Mandy was in the midst of a session in Portuguese, Pedro perched right next to her desk.  
  
"Oh pretty Pedro, have you missed me?"  April gushed over her pet and was met in return with a flourish of something enthusiastic, all of it in Portuguese.  
  
"Oh my, he's speaking Portuguese.  What else have you learned pretty boy?"  This might be fun, having a bird who spoke more than one language.  
  
"Maybe he can learn Russian too."  She smiled at Mark who only shook his shaggy head of hair.  
  
"Illya's a fox!"  Suddenly the room went silent.  
  
"Napoleon's a dream!" Not a pin drop.  
  
Mandy stuttered something about joking around, but not fast enough to convince the pair of agents that lots of gossiping went on down in this office.  
  
"Oh Mark, my parrot may have to be retrained."  April moaned out her dismay.  
  
"Slate is a cutie!" Mark was both pleased and embarrassed.  At least he had been mentioned.  
  
"Okay, that's all I need to hear.  You girls have taught my parrot to speak another language and hit on the men in Headquarters.  At least you didn't…"  Another round of silence hit the room.  April knew she couldn't resist finding out.  
  
"My name is April." She cooed to the parrot, hoping for a response.  
  
"April is lucky."  
  
Relief, amusement…  
  
"Yes, April is very lucky.  Thanks Mandy, I appreciate your looking after Pedro."  She took the bird on her arm and headed for the door with Mark at her side.  The other women in the room watched with a single breath held between them.  Hopefully April didn't speak all of the languages used in that room, otherwise she might find out just how lucky they all thought she really was.


End file.
